The Daughter of Diana
by kaworu nagisa
Summary: "Their expressions were unfriendly as they watched the sleeping boy, but there was also an unexplained curiosity in their eyes." Waking up in the Roman camp, Percy Jackson finds himself plunged into a world of monsters, violence, blood, and love.
1. Asleep

**AN. As of 4/7/2011, this fic officially sucks. Rewrite in progress.**

The boy slept.

He had black hair falling over his tightly shut lids, which cased brilliant green eyes, hidden from the world in his slumber. The rise and fall of his chest was the only indication that he was actually alive, not dead as would have been previously presumed. He lay on a twisted bed of vines, hardened and gnarled, forming a rectangular shape for him to sleep on.

The place in which he slept may once have been glorious, in its prime, perhaps, but now it was old and dilapidated, with broken pillars and a missing roof, vines twining over the marble floor and crawling over the cracked stone pillars. The place in which he slept was on the very top of a mountain, on a cliff above the sea, where the people believed the gods would watch over them. It held a remarkable view of the sunrise and sunset, whereby each glimmering ray of gold, pink, orange or yellow would be splayed across the clear sky, casting miraculous images on the crystal-clear blue water beneath.

And so the boy slept.

And as he slept, he dreamed.

At first he dreamed of endless strawberry fields, and a blonde girl, laughing at some joke he had told her. He dreamt of a bonfire, soaring with his spirits as he expressed his utter bliss. He dreamt – oh, he dreamt – but the images he dreamt of were simply too good to be true.

The boy muttered something and tossed on his bed of vines. Darkness now infiltrated his dreams, clouding out the happiness, and the taste of chocolate chip cookies on his tongue. Cold, touching the deepest pits of his mind as he slept, twisting and turning. A voice, emanating out of the darkness. "_Good,"_ It whispered. He felt its grip around him, vice-like, and cried out, even in his sleep. Rivulets of sweat cascaded down his cheeks, and his back.

And as he dreamed, figures emerged onto the relic of what used to be a palace.

Their expressions were unfriendly as they watched the sleeping boy, but there was an unexplained curiosity in their eyes. There were five of them in total, each of them bearing a _gladius_, and they approached him with the caution of one approaching a monster, or a rabid dog.

The first was a girl, and she beckoned quickly to the second as she got nearer and nearer to the sleeping form of the boy. Her eyes searched his face as the second girl joined her.

"Is he the one, Reyna -?"

The first girl, with honey blonde hair and grey eyes, hurriedly shushed the second girl, who had caramel hair tightly bound in an inescapable ponytail. Reyna, the blonde one, slowly removed two lengths of unbreakable cord from her pocket, and she began to bind the boy.

He hardly resisted, still being in his restless sleep, and the job was done in no time at all. Reyna and the second girl pulled the final knots, and then the remaining three – a boy and two other girls – quickly helped them lift the boy from his strange bed of roots and off the ruins.

The moment the boy broke contact with the bed of roots, it recoiled sharply into the earth. The five were unsure for a moment as to what to do, but they quickly recovered and heaved the boy's sleeping, lifeless form away. Warriors did not hesitate, and they were warriors.

And throughout this the boy slept. He did not move or thrash or struggle, because he was still dreaming of his one paradise and of his hell, with a blank, open-mouthed expression. His expression and face was almost endearing, and had the five listened close enough, they would have heard a sigh coming from the heavens as he was carried away.

The sigh faded, and was followed by a barely audible whisper.

_Sweet dreams, Perseus Jackson._

**As I said, this is a rewrite. Flames accepted.**


	2. Awake

**AN. Rewrite in progress.**

_Percy_

I awoke, to a startlingly foreign environment.

When my eyes first flashed open, I was struck by how bright it was. Literally. I could barely see a thing, for a white light blossomed right before me, and I closed my eyes instantly. The ball of fiery white light was still imprinted on the back of my eyes, however, but I preferred my eyes closed. That way I would not have to face directly up to the glare.

The next thing I was aware of was that I was bound to a board. I would have thrown my wrist directly up to shield my eyes the moment I was aware of the light, but to no avail, for my wrist was firmly bound to a wooden board, I deduced, by smashing the back of my hand against it several times. Steel cords also lashed around my ankles, and I was firmly bound. Thankfully, there was no biting force against my lips that would have indicated a gag.

The next thing I was aware of was the prickly sensation near the hollow of my throat, that indicated a blade. I immediately wondered how I knew that, since I could not see at all. Had I been in this situation before? The cold metal of the blade was a startlingly familiar sensation, however. I swallowed, and the mystery wielder of the blade only pressed down more firmly.

"So you're awake."

I started at the sound of a voice being so near to me and flinched automatically. It was a female voice, but it sounded surprisingly harsh, with a bitter edge. It wasn't a question, it was a statement. I somehow couldn't reply, so I nodded.

The voice made a scoffing sound. "What's your name?"

"I don't know," I gasped, as well as I could, with a blade at my throat. And strangely enough, it was true. I had no idea what my name was, where I was, or how I'd gotten there. I had no recollections or memories at all. To be perfectly honest, I was surprised that I actually knew how to talk.

"I'll say it one more time." The blade pressed down harder, and I waited for the pain accompanied by the warm, wet dripping of blood, but none came. "_What is your name_?"

"I don't know!" I burst out, desperation taking over methodical and logical thinking. "I don't know anything! And where am I?"

"We'll ask the questions," chimed in another voice, and this one was no more friendly that the first.

"Hazel, stay out of this." The first growled with an aggression that frightened me, in truth. I'm surprised that Hazel, the second girl, didn't back down immediately.

"You don't have to be so vicious, Reyna." Hazel informed the first girl, Reyna, in a hard voice. "We all know that you're worried about Jason, but we're a part of this as well. As is the First Legion. We're a team here, Reyna. You can't be so intent on doing this yourself."

"As I am perfectly capable to," snapped Reyna. "Now get back!" I felt the pressure of the blade leaving me, and wondered if Reyna was now pointing it at Hazel.

Then a boy's voice cut in. "Guys, guys, take it easy, okay? We can't have you tearing each other's throats out now, save that for Legion Training." There was an edge of amusement to his voice, but neither female responded. "This is about finding Jason, isn't it? Well, we're getting nowhere. So Reyna, Hazel, I'd appreciate it if you both step down."

Reyna's tone was clipped. "Just this once." Then she lowered her sword with a swishing sound, knocking aside the bright light that was shining in my face.

And finally, I managed to get a bearing on my surroundings.

I was tied to a vertically placed, red-stained wooden board – blood? I had no idea – and we were in a tent. There were five people in the tent asides from me in total, one guy and four girls. I had no trouble figuring out that the guy was the last person to speak apart from Reyna. But who were Reyna and Hazel, and who on Earth were the other two?

The first girl had honey blonde hair and blazing grey eyes, and I felt a strange sense of déjà vu as I looked at her. It was almost as if I knew her, but that was impossible. All these people were complete and utter strangers. I didn't know anyone. I didn't even know my own name!

The second had long caramel hair done in a high ponytail. I assumed she and the blonde girl were Reyna and Hazel, not necessarily in that order, because they had their weapons out and pointing it at each others throats. The blonde girl held a double-edged knife while the caramel-head wielded a golden spear with the aggression of a tiger.

The guy had dark brown hair that he'd obviously been running his hand through over and over again, because it was standing up in haphazard spikes all over the place. His eyes were dark brown, and held a slightly less intense look to them as compared to the two girls, but the moment he saw me looking, the light in them hardened.

Which left the two other girls. The first was a towhead, with sleek pin curls. She held no weapon of sorts, as far as I could see. She seemed to be purposefully ignoring me but didn't take much interest in the two others as well. The last was a girl with dark hair in a stylish boy cut, but she didn't look like a very girly girl, if you get what I'm saying. She was averagely pretty, but her eyes were just...cold and distant. Her bow and arrow were at the ready, held tensely by her side. The instant she noticed my eyes flicker to her, the bow flashed up, and the point of the arrow was pointing at me.

"Better settle this argument somewhere else, so that the hostage doesn't get another chance to contemplate his escape," She said, her tone cold and drawn.

This drew the two girls from their argument and back to me.

"We will deal with this _later_," said the blonde girl, whom I identified to be Reyna from her voice.

"Hazel," said Bow-and-Arrow girl, her tone warning. Hazel, the caramel-head, grudgingly lowered her spear. Then, even as I watched, it shrunk. Well, it may have shrunk, but my eyes grew wide. The last glimpse I caught of it was a golden flash, like a coin. Then it disappeared into the pocket of her jeans.

Reyna, without any hesitation, shoved her knife right back under my chin. "So," she hissed, accentuating the 's' like a snake. "_Your name._"

"I have no idea," I said, perfectly honest. "I really have no idea."

"Lies," said Reyna briefly. "Are you a spy?"

The question took me by surprise, and I laughed aloud. "A _what_?" I could barely remember my own name, no, more like _couldn't,_ and she thought I was a spy? Even a pudgy little man in a leopard-skin track suit doing a belly dance would be less ridiculous. A rather strange image came into my mind, and I quickly pushed it out of my head.

"A spy," repeated Reyna harshly. "Many have died on this very board. If you can't prove to us that you aren't one, we will skip right over the trial before the Consuls and go straight to the execution."

I hesitated. A name was rising out of the pits of my mind, a memory buried so deep it was almost impossible to retrieve from the pits of my mind. I struggled to remember that name. _Remember,_ a voice whispered. _Remember._

Then, almost as if it were a piece of paper fluttering on the breeze, I caught it. It resurfaced and bobbed along the surface of my mind. "Percy – Percy Jackson."

"Percy Jackson?" Reyna's eyes widened. I could tell she almost dropped her sword, but she recovered herself very quickly and backed away from the board. She was obviously deep in thought, I could almost see the wheels of her brain turning.

"Reyna?" This was from the guy.

"Shush, Bobby, I'm trying to think." She snarled in response. Bobby. So that was his name. I tried smiling at him, but he simply bared his teeth in a snarl in my direction. I shut my mouth and looked away.

"What's going on, Reyna?" Bow-and-arrow girl asked coldly. She obviously had more authority over the others, because Reyna actually responded without some witticism or snappy remark.

"He's the one. The one who will lead us to Jason." Reyna accused, stabbing a finger in my general direction. I froze up when I realised they were talking about me. What? Lead them to who? Did I hear Jacob? Jake? Or Jason?

"What?" repeated Bobby, voicing my thoughts aloud. Reyna and bow-and-arrow girl both flashed him a cold stare until he obviously felt uncomfortable, but he persisted. "How do you know this, Reyna?"

"Juno spoke to me in my dreams," Reyna said, a troubled look coming over her face. Her brow creased in worry, and she was obviously withholding information. Hazel, however, seemed intrigued while the rest just seemed resigned.

"What exactly did she say, Reyna?" Her voice was probing, their previous tiff already forgotten.

"She said – she said – she said that a boy named Perseus Jackson would arrive at our camp. That he would be the only way to recover Jason, wherever he was hidden." Reyna lowered her knife. "That we had to listen to him."

"So listen to me," I said, spying my chance.

"Be quiet," snapped Reyna.

"I'm sorry, but you're supposed to listen to me, right?" I had no idea what I was saying, but I had no intention of stopping. That's me. Reckless, always plunging headfirst into things I don't even know about. Oh, so I _did_ know more about myself. _Why don't you tell me more things?_ I asked my brain mentally, as if it could speak back. _Why do you keep me so vulnerable?_ But of course, there was no response.

"Just be quiet." The last and final girl, the towhead, spoke this time. Her eyes were equally distant, but her tone was even colder and emotionless. "We have to decide what we want to do with you first."

"Yes," said Reyna, almost unconsciously; she was too absorbed in her own thoughts. "Listen to Gwen."

Gwen. Finally, a name to put to the girl's face? She seemed so queer, especially when she did not speak at all. I still didn't know bow-and-arrow girl's name, though.

"What's your name?" I asked aloud. Her eyes flashed up, and the arrow was pointing at me once more.

"Wrong question," said Bobby, obviously enjoying the show. "Try again."

"Er...where am I?"

Her finger tightened on the bowstring.

Bobby made a sound effect like those in the video games when you lose. I scowled at him, the guy was majorly irritating.

"What do you want from me?"

Strangely enough, this, evidently, was the _right_ question. The bow did not dip, however, but her finger relaxed a notch. "We want the truth," She said, a hard edge to her voice. "But you can't give that to us."

"Because I don't remember!" I cried desperately. "I don't know a thing! I don't remember _anything_ at all!" Her eyes were disbelieving, and they only narrowed.

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Go easy on him, Kota," coaxed Bobby. "He's apparently valuable, if what Reyna said is true."

"My name is Dakota, daughter of Mars." She said, her aggressive and tense stance not relaxing in the least. "You know what that means? I don't go easy on _anyone,_ valuable or not." I had a feeling her words were directed at me, not Bobby.

"Ares," I corrected her automatically. Confusion clouded her features temporarily.

"What?"

"Ares," I repeated, feeling like a fool all of a sudden. Dakota's eyebrows remained furrowed. "Ares. Not Mars." Her eyebrows lifted this time around, but now it was out of curiosity, not confusion.

"Why do you use the Greek names?"

"I don't rightly know." It was true, I did not. "They seem right." I said truthfully.

Dakota scoffed at my response, but at least she lowered her bow, the bowstring relaxing. I felt my heartbeat slow down, calmer now. At least I wasn't in danger of being shot in the head, even though I was still helpless. I had a sneaking feeling that Dakota didn't miss when she fired.

"You are annoying," Reyna told me, as if I should have known this already. "Is this normal?"

"I'm not sure," I said, brow creasing. "I think – I think I get yelled at a lot. I'm not very sure whether it's just by one person, or by everyone."

"I'd say its everyone," shot back Hazel. "So, Kota, what do we do with him?"

"Should we take him to Madame Lupa?" Gwen asked, obviously voicing the thoughts on everyone's heads, for they all nodded in perfect synchronization. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach that this Madame Lupa, whoever she was, wasn't good news.

"He needs to prove his worth first," replied Reyna, her expression hard. "We need to test him in combat. Dakota, Hazel, Gwen?"

"I refuse to take him three-on-one," said Dakota, her tone confident. "I will fight him, personally." I got a feeling that Dakota was well-versed in the art of fighting and that she felt that she would squash me like a bug. I felt up for the challenge.

"Bring it on." I replied. Her smirk grew, but I ignored her. "But don't you have to untie me first?"

This they did, with evident displeasure. "Untie him," commanded Dakota, obviously unhappy about freeing me. Hazel and Bobby complied with the task, and soon I was free, rubbing my wrists to get thee circulation going.

"What about weapons? What are you going to fight me with?" Dakota daunted. I scowled, and thrust my hand into my pocket like I'd done this dozens of times. I came up with a ballpoint pen. Black, with a detachable plastic cover. Probably cost about...thirty cents.

Immediately I wondered why I had a pen in my pocket.

"Writing on Dakota has never yet been tried," Reyna said, and there was barely concealed amusement in her voice, "But it may be useful." The others – Hazel, Bobby, and Gwen – laughed. Dakota's lips twitched into a smirk.

That was until I uncapped my pen and it grew into a full-length sword. The laughter ceased immediately, and their eyes grew wide. Hell, yeah. I had the most awesome ballpoint-pen-sword in the entire world. I wiped the smirk right off Dakota's face.

Her ego must've shrunk right down to the size of a pinhead, but at least she didn't show it. Her expression hardened. "I am now the current praetor of the First Legion," she informed me in a hard voice. "No one save Jason Grace himself has bested me before."

I shrugged my shoulders and extended my sword. "Well, there's a first for everything."

**Rewrite done. Whew, it was tiring. You might as well review for my hard work. Please?**


End file.
